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Thursday, April 14, 2011

riddle poem

I’m about to come out the box
3 cords bringing me to life
The box is hard to open
You may need a knife

I am made by Microsoft
Played by many people
A bunch of nerds in their loft
Even a priest in his steeple

When I’m played people get kinda crazy
People always yelling
They’re still so lazy
Number 1 at the store, always selling

When people turn me off
Its always so tough
Always making me sad
They never play me enough

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